


La Marseillaise

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-01
Updated: 2009-07-01
Packaged: 2019-01-19 14:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: A pregnant Hermione, a shallow Harry, and a genius Ron? And just who is this Stephen Dedalus character? You'll find these answers and more in the secrets of La Marseillaise.





	1. The Man Without a Face

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Prologue:  
Remember, remember the fifth of November. This phrase was etched on the dark wood of Harry’s headboard; every morning since returning home from Hogwarts he gazed at it. What did it mean? He shifted his head to his alarm clock, and then towards his closed bedroom door. It was eight o’clock; only a few moments before his harpy of an aunt came banging on the door. Turning back once more to look at the inscribed words, he slowly traced the words with his index finger. A sharp knock and even sharper words came from the hallway outside, and Harry quickly sat up on his bed, once again wishing that he had something to enjoy about his birthday. 

Chapter 1- The Man Without a Face  


_Tu m’as donné ta boue et j’en ai fait de l’or._  


Harry was having trouble sleeping. It had been two weeks since he had arrived at the Burrow, and he still could not get over Ron’s obnoxious alarm clock. He would lie awake; staring at the clock face as the seconds, minutes, and hours went by, waiting in trepidation of the horrible whining voice. He rolled over. Ron was mumbling in his sleep, “Jamie, who’s that on your car phone?” Harry rubbed his scar anxiously. How was Ron gaining all this information about the muggle world? Soon, though, Ron returned back to his usual habit of snoring, another horrible sound Harry could not stand. “Pretty soon, I’ll have to start sleeping with Hermione,” Harry muttered to himself. He looked out the window, the early strains of the morning light peeping through the glass.

  
“AH!” He gasped out. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through his head, down his neck and to his abdomen. Crookshanks, who had been sleeping on the floor, hissed in terror. Harry clasped his forehead, tumbling over the side of the bed. It felt as though the pain lasted for hours, an inescapable torment that haunted him every night. The duvet slid off the bed, Harry’s shaking legs exposed to the cold morning air. At that moment, Ron’s alarm went off.

  
“It’s NINE O’CLOCK! It’s NINE O’CLOCK!” The voice of the talking alarm clock sliced through the air, finally waking Ron up. He groped blindly around in the darkness, slapping Harry in the process. At last, the pain stopped. Vomiting in the corner, Harry turned around to see the door to Ron’s bedroom fly open, and then collapsed next to Crookshanks. Hermione stood there, a toothbrush in her mouth. She looked hideous.

  
“Hermione, what did you do last night?” asked Ron.

  
“I was up late studying arithmancy, when suddenly I realized that-”

  
She was interrupted by an owl flying into the window. “Oh, no, Pig! What happened?” Hermione shoved Ron towards the windowsill,” Do something!” The poor bird fluttered against the window, it's short claws scratching against the glass pane.  


“What the hell, Pig? Who do you think you are? Four Leaf?” He quickly rushed to the window and opened it, and the badly injured owl dropped in. He fluffed his feathers, and soon he was good as new. Attached to his foot was a small, folded up note. Ron untied it, and tossed Pig a treat. He looked at the note, and handed it to Harry, who had been lying on the floor.

  
Opening it slowly, he saw that the ink inside was green and slightly smudged, as if it had been sent in a hurry before the ink had time to dry. His gaze, dropping towards the bottom, looked back up in shock. “You guys,” he started.  


“What is it Harry? “ Hermione asked, a worried expression painting her toothpaste covered face.  


Harry looked at her, with tears shining in his eyes. “It’s from Sirius.” 


	2. A Secret Unveiled

**Chapter 2- A Secret Unveiled**

_“Est-ce qu’on gouverne son cerveau, ou est-ce que le cerveau vous gouverne?”_

 

Ron immediately tore the scrap of paper away from Harry and scanned his eyes over it. He looked back up to his friends, his face looking rather confused. "Harry, I can't read this. There are funny words and accents in it. Hermione?" Hermione gently took it, initially thinking that it was normal English and Ron was just illiterate, but as she read the two boys could tell she had as little of an idea as to what the note said as Ron. She turned it back over to Harry, who attempted to read it aloud.

"Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées qui hante la tempête et se rit de l’archer; exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées, ses ailes de géant l’empêchent de marcher." His accent was magnificent, and it seemed that he knew what he was reading. It was as if Gerard Depardieu had entered the room. Even Harry's nose seemed a bit bigger...

"Harry," Hermione said, "Whatever does it mean?" Harry's two friends were staring back at him with open mouthed astonishment.

"All muggles have to take French class during their time in primary school, so I have some sort of idea what Sirius wrote." He looked back at the note for a moment, and then stared off at a point in the distance, apparently deep in thought. Harry turned back to his friends, a small tear in the corner of his right eye, and said, "It says that Sirius's last will and testament was never read out in full. It gives the location of where we might find the key to his Gringott's vault, and that inside of it, there is a gift for all three of us." He looked down at his hands, which seemed have a slight tremor. 

Hermione quickly knelt next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. "How can you be sure, Harry? I mean to say, it's been quite a while since you've taken a French course. Are you positive that is what the note states?"

Harry jumped up and slammed his fist against the wall. "Damn it, Hermione! How can you possibly hold so much doubt in your heart? Just because I am not conversant in gobbledegook like you are does not mean that I can't be conversationally fluent in French!" He rubbed the raw knuckles on his hand, looking up at the ceiling as he did so. "I just mean...It's not like you are the absolute queen of knowledge, alright?" He looked back at his friends, and then walked out of the room, probably to the breakfast Molly had waiting for all the guests in her home. The door shut with a sharp bang, and Hermione and Ron immediately leapt towards the note.

"There is no way that I trust his translation. I simply have to cast an interpretation charm, and we will know if he was right or just pulling the words out of his ass," Hermione whispered as she waved her wand around over the note. She muttered some words in Latin, and almost immediately, the letters rearranged themselves and changed to an English translation.

Ron, who couldn't see a thing due to Hermione's rather large hair blocking his view, started whining, "Hermione, what does it say? This could change our lives!" He was no doubt thinking of the galleons that Sirius may have left him and his family. Hermione stared at it for a moment, and then started wringing her hands together in an anxious fashion.

"It says more than what Harry led us to believe. He was probably banking on the fact that he knows French and I was stupid enough to study Spanish in primary school," she started." It says exactly what he said it did, but he left out an enormous piece of the puzzle. Apparently, the ancient House of Black has not run out of heirs. It says that Sirius had another cousin, a brother of Narcissa and Bellatrix. This uncle had a son, a boy who grew up in the heart of Ireland. The brother, Hector, changed his first name and his surname, and moved to Ireland to avoid his crazy family. Apparently Sirius had been looking for them for quite some time, and had succeeded in finding them not long before he died." 

"Does it say what the family's name was changed to?" Ron asked, a hopeful expression gracing his freckled visage.

"Dedalus. Stephen Dedalus is the boy, and Icarus Dedalus is the father, formerly known as Hector Black." Hermione looked back down at the note one more time, and saw that the translation had gone back to French. "It says that we need to find Stephen because he is in great danger. It says that Stephen is the only key to destroying RAB and K. But I don't know what those initials stand for." 

Ron slung his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and rubbed his nose against her forehead. "I am more concerned with why Harry felt the need to not share this information with us. He obviously knows how to read French; why would he leave out such crucial information?" 

"Do you think he is hiding something from us? I don't think Harry has been getting much sleep lately, and sometimes I here him muttering this weird phrase to himself...I don't think it's in English...It sounded like hanreevay..."Hermione paused for a moment to try and remember, "hanreevay vew. At least, that's what it sounded like." 

"Don't worry, Hermione. We'll figure this out. But for right now, let's go downstairs and put on some semblance of normalcy for my family, alright?" He grabbed her arm, and the walked out into the hallway, unaware that Crookshanks had heard their every word.


	3. Sinister Mumblings, Rumblings, and Grumblings

**Chapter 3 Sinister Mumblings, Rumblings, and Grumblings**

_De vin, de poésie, ou de vertu, à votre guise. Mais enivrez-vous._

 

Harry stared morosely at his slice of toast. He had just finished screaming at Hermione, and was worried that he may have come off a little...paranoid. He knew that Hermione and Ron were losing faith in his wizarding skills. All of this insomnia completely prevented Harry's abilities to do the simplest of charms. He couldn't even accio the butter for his toast! And Ginny prancing around, looking as beautiful as a spring rose was not helping his concentration in the least. Maybe, Harry mused, if she were wearing a muggle costume. A penguin suit, perhaps? A loud banging interrupted Harry's melancholy thoughts, and he quickly looked up to see the object of his attentions appear directly in front of him. Harry blushed, ran a hand through his unbrushed hair, and anxiously rubbed his scar. Ginny looked beautiful. It was almost as if she had been reading his thoughts; She was wearing a black pantsuit with a white shirt beneath, and for some reason, a bright red bow-tie. 

"Hey, Ginny. Oh, is it already Halloween?" Crap, thought Harry, that was probably not the right thing to say...Why do I always have to act like an arse? Harry put his head in his head and rested his elbows on the table. 

"Harry, what is the matter with you?" Ginny looked a bit shocked. "I could hear some yelling from through the walls. It sounded quite a bit like you." She sat down across from Harry and rested her hand on his forearm. "Harry...I am worried about you." Her red hair brushed against the table. "The entire time that you've been staying with us, I have noticed that...you've been a bit off." She looked down and then directly into his eyes." You are paler than usual, and you have dark circles under your eyes. Please, tell me what is going on?"

"Ginny, what would you do if I told you that I thought I was going to die? Would you tell Ron? Hermione? Possibly Kingsley Shacklebolt? Barack Obama?" Ginny went pale. He stabbed at the eggs on his plate with his fork, and then looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening. Leaning in closer to Ginny, he said, "What would you do if I told you I needed to kill one of my best friends in order to survive?" He went back to his toast, smirking a bit. "What would you say if I had to kill you?"

Ginny jumped up, backing away from the table. "Harry! What the hell are you talking about?!" Harry stood up from his seat and started to slowly approach Ginny. "Don't worry, Ginny. It will only hurt for a second." Ginny lept out of the way and grabbed the plate of eggs and toast on the table, swiftly bringing it down on Harry's head. 

"What, the devil, Ginny! I was only joking! Bloody hell, you guys worry too much about me!" He wiped the butter off of his glasses and slid down the wall onto the floor. Leaning his head against the wooden wall, he looked up at Ginny, tears prickling his eyes. "Why do you guys always see the worst in me?" 

Ginny slid down next to him, and took his hand in hers. "To be fair, Harry, you were threatening my life. I mean, you can't just expect me to wait around for someone to save me. I'm not Lavender Brown, or Joe Jonas, Or Taylor Swift, or Hester Prynne, or any stupid pansy you can think of off the top of your head..."

Leaning her head against his shoulder, she sighed, "I know you have secrets, Harry. If you can't trust them to your own friends, who can you trust?"

"Bloody, hell! What is going on in here?" Ron stormed in, Hermione in tow.

Harry shot up immediately, banging his head against the windowsill. "What do you mean, Ron? We--I--I mean...we were just sitting here, having a chat."

"You look like a bloody moron, that's what I mean." Ron scooped up some of the eggs that were still sitting on Harry's shoulders and popped them in his mouth. "What was going on in here that had you too busy to make me some eggs?" Hermione crept up from behind Ron, and offered her hand to Harry. 

"Harry, I'm sorry. I had no reason to doubt you, and I truly hope you forgive me."

Harry took her hand and pulled her into a hug. "We're friends, Hermione," He said. "You being a narcissistic prat is not going to change that." From behind Hermione, he smirked at Ginny, who had a questioning look on her face. "Ugh, but I may need to take a shower, I feel that smelling like rotten eggs will keep me from completing any of the day's activities that we have planned." And with that, he left the room; the only trace of him was the trail of buttery bread crumbs left in his wake.

Hermione quickly took a seat and grabbed several slices of toast. Ron joined her as Ginny looked on suspiciously. "Hermione, what exactly were you apologizing for?" she asked; concern was very obvious in her voice.

"Oh, nothing, Ginny. Please don't fret yourself over anything he said. If you ask me, Harry has been a bit...odd during our time here. He became a bit upset with me for no reason at all! In fact, I'm beginning to worry if he's a tad...unstable. Ron told me that hasn't been getting any sleep." Hermione seemed desperate to keep the conversation away from what upset Harry, and Ginny knew it. But, she decided to play along; Ginny would get the information out of them somehow.

"Well, if you aren't going to tell me what that little tiff was about, you might as well tell me what you're going to do today." Her eyes were wide with curiosity, but her nose was wrinkled with suspicion.

Ron looked up suddenly, as though his name had been called. "Did any of you hear that? I just heard the strangest noise...It sounded like my name...only from very far away." He got up and looked out the window. There was no one there, well, not counting the garden gnomes of course.

"I didn't hear anything, Ron. Perhaps you're just hearing things? Did you get a good night's sleep, or do have a case of insomnia like Harry's?" asked Hermione. 

Ron looked disparagingly back down at his friend, and walked quickly over to the wall, putting his ear against it...listening. Turning back to the table where his sister and friend sat, he said, "No, Hermione. I've heard nothing. But speaking of hearing things, maybe you should tell Ginny about the things you've "heard" Harry say." 

"Yes, Hermione. What have you heard me say?" Harry was standing in the doorway, shooting dagger looks at his frizzy-haired friend, a piece of sausage still stuck in his nose. "What exactly have I been muttering behind your back?" _And why do I feel so congested all of a sudden?_

Hermione looked down at her hands and nervously shuffled her feet. "You've been saying things in your sleep, that's all."

Harry stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't he said, "Goddamn it, Hermione! I can't perform occlumency when you're looking down! Are you going to tell me what "things" I was saying, or do I have to get Snape in here?"

Hermione took a deep breath and looked up. "I couldn't understand it. You're not the most articulate sleep-talker, you know, which makes it extremely difficult to successfully eavesdrop. But it sounded something like hanreevay vew."

"What, that doesn't even make any sense! That wasn't even English! Stop making up crap, Hermione! Either you tell me what I was really saying in my sleep, or I'm going to the Gringotts vault without you guys!" Harry said angrily.

"GRINGOTTS VAULT?" screamed Ginny. "What are you going there for?" The three friends looked at each other, reluctant to tell Ginny the real reason they were going to Gringotts.

Harry was in a bad mood. "I'm going there to steal you a mutha flipping diamond the size of a polar bear's head. Bloody Hell..."

"Don't worry about it, Ginny," said Ron. "We're just getting money for...school supplies. Anyways, Ginny, you can't expect us to tell you everything! Get out of here, things need to cool down without you!" And with that, he gave her a little shove out of the room. She stumbled, looked back at Harry, and stomped up to her room. "You see, she just behaves like a child at every chance she gets," fumed Ron. "And why is she dressed like a penguin?"

Hermione, in the meantime, had been finishing her breakfast. "Well, you guys, are you ready to go to Gringotts and find our inheritance?"

Ron and Harry nodded, and a quiet pop was heard as each of them apparated out of the room and to Gringotts. Little did they know that Crookshanks had been hiding in the corner, nibbling on a piece of bacon the entire time. 

 


	4. Stepping on Blond Children

**Chapter 4: Stepping on Blond Children**

_FRANCAIS OU SILENCE: Car je suis connu comme le loup blanc, il faut que tu fasses attention!_

 

As the trio made their way through the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley, they quietly discussed the will and how it could have possibly taken over a year to reach them. "It obviously couldn't have been written by Sirius, so perhaps he had to rush through it...because someone was trying to stop him!" realized Harry. His brow furrowed in thought, Harry nearly walked directly into a rather small blond-haired girl. She looked rather surprised, and immediately countered, "Watch where you're going, you prat!"

  
Harry seemed unconcerned, lost in his thoughts, wondered off to an alley next to a group of shops. "Harry," Hermione started, "Ron and I simply must talk to you about something. It's about the note." This broke Harry out of his train of thoughts, and he grabbed Ron and Hermione's wrists to drag them further into the dark alley. Although it was summer, the air seemed more cold and thick than the fresh air in front of the shops. Harry ran his hands through his hair, obviously very distressed about something. "What exactly do you know, Hermione," Harry asked, an edge to his voice.

  
"I know you don't want us to think that we can't trust you, Harry. But, you've been acting so damn untrustworthy, lately! You don't tell us anything anymore, so I never know what you’re thinking of, and why you act the way that you do, and what your motives are for those actions!" Hermione told him. She started pacing back and forth, and finally rested her forehead against the cool brick wall.

  
"Look, Hermione...Ron, I am so sorry that we haven't been as close this summer...but I'm trying to let you guys back in. It's just hard because...well I haven't been getting any sleep. My thoughts are so scattered...I can't even cast a simple engorgio charm. And what good is it to go down Diagon Alley's red light district if I can't even perform--"

  
"Harry, there's more to tell you. Ron and I have something more to tell to you," Hermione interrupted quickly. She turned to him and directly into Harry's bright green eyes," After you left the room, I cast a translation spell to find out if you were misleading us about what the note really contained. We know about Sirius's long-lost cousin, and that he had a son, Stephen Dedalus. What's more, we know that you have been instructed to find Stephen."

  
Harry groaned loudly and slapped his hand over his face. "Hermione, I never wanted you two to be involved in this situation. And is my hand bigger than my face? I heard that means you have cancer..." Sighing, he added, "No matter where the note led me, I didn't want you guys to be involved. I don't know what kind of trouble I might get into. This guy, Stephen, he's Irish. And the last thing I want is for him and any of his cohorts to beat Irish into me." Looking back at his friends, Harry said, "I don't think I can let you guys come with me on this adventure."

  
Ron looked frustrated, "Don't be stupid, Harry. We're sticking together, no matter what. Even if, at times, it seems like some sort of weird ménage à trois. Look, Hermione and I have already talked about this. Why else would Sirius have given us anything from his will. It makes sense giving something to you, but maybe he willed Hermione and me something so that we could help you find Stephen." Ron's blue eyes were wide with excitement with the thought of going on more voyages and adventures with his best friends. "Harry, best friends stick together. Like Sellotape. Brown paper, white paper, stick it together with the tape, the tape of love. And, unless I'm mistaken, we're best friends, like Jesus and Peter."

  
Harry looked at Ron with tears in his eyes and slowly nodded his head. With that, Ron firmly took Hermione and Harry's arms in his own, and they walked boldly down the yellow brick road and into the bright light of Diagon Alley.

  
************

  
"I told you, he didn't give me a key to the vault, he simply gave me this note!" Harry shouted angrily at one of the Gringotts goblins. "I don't know what else you expect me to do!" The goblin looked rather bored and gave no indication that he was intimidated by Harry's arm waving.

  
"Mr. Potter, do you have the note?" he asked rather snidely. He tapped his long fingernails on the marble counter impatiently, probably wishing he was somewhere else. Harry immediately dug into his robe pockets, looking for the small crumpled note. Finally, he unearthed it and dropped the note onto the goblin's waiting palm. The goblin quickly unfolded it and smoothed the crumples out of the paper. After waiving his hand over the note, which gave off a blueish glow, he looked directly into Ron's eyes. "Come forward," he said. Ron looked rather green around the gills.

  
Slowly stepping forward, he leaned towards the goblin in order to see him properly. The goblin yanked his ear to pull him closer, and then waived his hand under Ron's chin. Then, the goblin reached behind Ron's ear and pulled out a small silver key. Examining it carefully, he showed it to Harry who examined it closely. "You guys, it says Sirius Black on it!

"That is the key that you were looking for?" asked the goblin.

"I suppose so, I mean, I've seen it before, but I suppose so," replied Harry.

"Well, there is only one way to be sure." Replied the goblin, and almost immediately, another goblin appeared, who snapped his fingers, and motioned for the trio to follow him. Harry handed the new goblin the key, and upon examination, took the friends out of the busy main hall to a dark passageway that would lead to the vaults, where they loaded into a cart.

  
**************

 

Standing in front of vault 711, Hermione's face appeared a bit greener than before. It was obvious to her friends that Hermione enjoyed riding the underground carts about as much as she enjoyed riding broomsticks. She steadied herself against the wall, and watched as Ron, Harry, and the goblin approached the vault. Stroking his hand down the center of the vault's heavy, wooden door, the wood seemed to dissolve away into a small pile of sand on the floor. Hermione finally stepped forward and joined her friends on the outskirts of the vault. Harry looked at the goblin questioningly, and the goblin nodded. Casting a lumos spell and walking in, he examined the floor of the vault, and immediately identified a large, ornately carved wooden chest. He lifted the chest into his arms and walked back into the cart. Hermione and Ron quickly joined him, and soon they were on their way out of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

 

The three friends ran out to the safety of Diagon Alley's busy streets, and Harry whispered, "We absolutely cannot start examining the chest until we're back at the Burrow with wards put up. We cannot risk any evidence of us being at Sirius's vault coming out." Hermione looked at him with a sudden understanding, and grabbed the chest from her friend. Setting it on the ground near the entrance of an alleyway, she pulled out her wand and shrunk the chest so that it would fit easily into their robes. From there, the trio apparated quickly back to the Burrow, where they ran up the stairs to open the chest that held their destinies. And possibly enough money to buy Ron some more bacon.

 

Hermione took the chest from Harry and immediately started in on looking for a lock, a crack, anything to help open it. Ron, however, stood back and examined the top. Bending down to get a closer look, Ron traced his index finger against the intricate carvings on the cover. The bas relief was filled in with opal, facial expressions outlined in aquamarine. The light blue gave way to a sharp green that resembled Harry's eyes. Tiny, glinting curves winked back at Ron, and soon, he came to a realization. Emeralds, sapphires, and amethysts adorned the cover, all joining together into the framework of a cohesive picture. This box alone is worth more than my house! he thought. I could by a George Foreman grill and an entire year's worth of sausage! But he pushed these desires out of his mind and tried to focus on the more relevant matters. "Harry, Hermione?" He started, "You know these little drawings on the cover?" Hermione and Harry nodded in ascension. "I'm not sure, but I think this appears to be a leprechaun...and his lucky charms..."


	5. Sirius' Light Materials

**Chapter 5: Sirius's Light Materials a.k.a. Sirius Gets Sassy**  
  


Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter or His Dark Materials. I mean, really. We may be genius, but not that genius.

_Oh nuit, vient apporter à la terre, le calme enchantement de ton mystère_

 

"Honestly, Ronald, must you always be thinking about food?" Hermione was still trying to find an opening to the chest and she was not looking for a conversation about how it resembled Ron's favorite cereal.

  
"Gosh darn it, Hermione, is it at all possible for you to have faith in anyone but yourself?" said Harry. "I think Ron's right. Didn't Sirius's letter mention something about his cousin moving to Ireland? I think this might be a clue. Good job, Ron." Ron looked flabbergasted that he actually said something intelligent for once. But this meant that he probably wouldn't be saying anything for the rest of the day. His brain needed a rest.

  
"You're right," said Hermione. "I'm sorry, Ron, for not believing you. I think you may be on to something with this Ireland idea." Wow, even Hermione thought he had said something smart! This was all too much for Ron to handle, and he fainted onto the floor. "Now, Harry," Hermione continued, "I think there's a secret opening for this chest. Let's try pressing all the gems and seeing if one of them makes it pop open." They began to poke at each individual jewel, and sure enough, at the push of an emerald, the lid unlatched.

  
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and then looked at Ron who was still lying unconscious on the floor. "I guess we should wake him up before we look inside, shouldn't we?" sighed Hermione. Harry grunted in reluctant agreement. He reached to the table behind him and grabbed a glass of water that had been sitting there since they apparated back in. He splashed it onto Ron's face. 

"STEAK!" Ron screamed. "HE STOLE MY STEAK!" Hermione shook her head.

  
"Wake up, bonehead!" said Harry. "It's present time." When Ron realized where he was he wiped the water out of his eyes and joined the other two at the edge of the chest. Slowly, and all at the same time, the trio peered inside the box. They saw a layer of polar bear fur and Hermione reached in to fold open the flaps. Her hands were shaking with excitement, however, when they saw what was truly inside, their faces fell at the anticlimactic result. At the bottom of the fur-lined chest lay three objects and a piece of parchment. Hermione pulled them out and placed them on the floor. Harry examined the objects with his eyes, and determined them to be what looked like scraps of an object, a dagger, and a strange golden instrument decorated with various images.

  
"This is Sirius' will," Hermione said, looking at the piece of parchment. She began reading aloud. "The Last Will and Testament of Sirius Black. This is not the one in which I leave Harry Grimmauld Place, that was my Second to Last Will and Testament. I fooled you, didn't I? Haha, yes, this is my very last will and testament. Promise." Hermione looked up, a confused expression on her face.

  
"What are you stopping for, woman?" said Harry. "Keep reading!"

  
"To the Daywalking Ginger," she continued, "I leave my alethiometer in hopes that he will remember me when he uses it." Hermione picked up the golden instrument and handed it to Ron. "Good luck figuring out how to use it," she said. Ron took his inheritance, placed it on the floor, and stared dumbly down at it for the rest of the reading.

  
"To the Smartest and Most Arrogant Witch Who Ever Lived, I leave my Amber Spyglass... er, at least parts of my amber spyglass. I think that's what it's supposed to be. I just have these pieces of mirror and shit and I can’t figure out how to put it together, cause you know, I'm just a fugitive who can turn into a dog and is commonly mistaken for a death omen. So I figured that since you're so effing smart you could get it together by just staring at it and using brain waves or whatever. Have fun!" Hermione took the materials and spread them out on the floor. She had some amber colored plates, a mirror, a magnifying glass, a tube of what looked like oil, and a few pieces of bamboo.

  
"I don't understand," she said.

  
"Hmph," Harry grunted. "Well keep reading! I want to know what he left me."

  
"To Joe Degeorge," she read, then stopped. "Oops, sorry. It looks like he crossed that out. To the Chosen One and Savior of the Universe, I leave my Subtle Knife. This is probably the chillest thing I have ever owned. It cuts through everything, and I mean everything. There is a downside, though. Have you ever wondered why I'm missing two fingers on my left hand? No, it wasn't in a duel with Gandalf like I told you. This knife actually cut them off. And unfortunately for you, the knife won't work until it mutilates your hand as well. But I encourage you to make up a sweet story to explain your injury like I did. That's half the fun! And Harry, the knife has one rule: always close at the open. Adios Amigos!"

  
And with that, Hermione put down the parchment and handed Harry the knife. He held it up to his face and stared at his reflection, which he considered to be pretty damn sexy. I should be a model, he thought. I am really, really ridiculously good looking.

  
"Oh Harry, do be careful!" Hermione said, and Harry snapped out of his reverie. "I have a bad feeling about that knife. Please put it down!"

  
"Put it down? Why should I put it down? It belongs to me now, Hermione. And besides, Sirius wouldn't have left it to me if he didn't think it was safe."

  
"Harry, that knife cut off two of his fingers! And he said it would do the same to you! This can't possibly be anything but dangerous. It's filled with dark magic, I'm sure of it. It probably does a lot more than Sirius ever discovered."

  
"Well then it's up to me to figure those things out, isn't it? But I have to get it working first..." Harry stood up, ignoring Hermione's disputes, and walked over to the table where the glass of water had been sitting. He placed his left hand flat on the surface and raised the knife up high with his right. "Well," he said, "here goes nothing!"


End file.
